


Love Note

by trashybin



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Hogwarts Eighth Year, M/M, Misunderstandings, Pining, Romance, Texting, text fic, yea i think this counts as a text fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-27
Updated: 2019-10-31
Packaged: 2020-05-20 17:15:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19381201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trashybin/pseuds/trashybin
Summary: Draco uses a magical notebook to anonymously message Harry. Harry writes back in the hope of friendship, or something more.





	1. Chapter 1

Wet smooching noises welcomed Draco as he stepped into the dormitory, seeking some comfort after a day of going through unnecessarily long classes.

"What the fuck and hell." Breathed Draco as he saw his two -- unfortunately -- friends, Pansy and Blaise, making out on Blaise's bed. Not that it was out of ordinary for Draco to see them biting each other's faces off at this point, but normal face-eating didn't seem to be cutting it for them today as they'd picked a horizontal position and were sliding their hands all over each other. "This is a shared space, you tossers!" He yelled and they finally sat up, holding hands as if it would kill them to completely break contact, grinning like mischievous kids.

"But this is a special occasion." Pansy protested.

"And what's that?"

"Valentine's day!" They said in sync, Pansy in a cheerful tone and Blaise with a _how-can-you-not-know-that_ expression on his smug face.

"Um no it's not."

"It is almost." Pansy said.

"No it's not."

"It is somewhere." Blaise tried to help.

"No. It's not."

Pansy rolled her eyes. "Someone's under an anti-fun charm today."

"More like every day." Blaise said between fake coughs. However, he didn't bother to hide his next statement, "a proper shag could fix that."

"Yeah, you wouldn't have a stick up your arse if it was already filled with something else."  
Draco couldn't decide between grimacing and gaping so he did a bit of both.

Pansy and Blaise had started dating last month and were very enthusiastic about it -- _celebrating Valentine's day weeks in advance, seriously?_ \-- they also seemed to think 'finding someone' was the way to end all Draco's problems. Not that Draco had any problems, but they assumed so anyway.

Pansy got to her feet. "Oh you've got to see what we've bought from that Valentiney shop in Hogsmeade." She told Draco, and he didn't know what shop she was talking about but guessed he wouldn't like anything inside the bag that Pansy was emptying on her bed.

Several items were scattered on the mattress. Draco listened reluctantly as Pansy explained away. Most of them were sex related potions and amulets, but there were two other objects that attracted Draco's attention that Pansy plainly ignored, obviously waiting for Draco to ask about them: two notebooks with the scarlet title _Love Note_  on their black cover.

"…And this one stimulates multiple climax--"

"So are you gonna tell me what these are, or what?"

" _Those_ are the Love Notes," Said Pansy dreamily while holding up a finger, as if this was her most important purchase.

Silence fell. Draco sighed and gave in once again, "I wonder what the Lovers' Notes could be. If only someone would inform me." he said sarcastically.

"When you're far from your lover --not _too_ far though, there's a limit, but it should work just fine inside the castle -- and you desperately want to speak to them, the Love Notes come to rescue. Any word you write on one of the pair, it will appear on the other one too so your lover can receive your message and write back to you."

"That's actually impressive." Draco admitted.

"Think you can pull a trick on Potter with one of these?" Blaise joined in the conversation.

Draco's heart gave a jolt at hearing Potter's name so suddenly. He'd ignored Potter's existence with all his might this year and he definitely hadn't talked to his friends about him even if he caught himself thinking about him sometimes.

He played Blaise's words in his mind again and figured it sounded like he had a plan; a plan that Draco probably wasn't going to like. "Yeah I'm pretty sure I'm gonna pass so save your breath."

"Fuck's _sake_ , Draco," they said at the same time and Draco cringed, bloody weird couples. Blaise went on, "you are such a disgrace upon our house right now. The Sorting Hat would shout Ravenclaw at you in a heartbeat from miles away."

"Maybe I don't fancy getting kicked out."

"He even talks like one!" Blaise pinched the bridge of his nose.

"No one's getting kicked out; it's just a small prank." Pansy said in a dismissing tone, then looked into his eyes encouragingly. "Come on, Draco, it's your last year. Probably your last chance at satisfying your Potter Obsession."

Draco didn't even bother. "So what you're gonna say is that I should somehow talk to Potter through these notes without him finding out it's me…"

Blaise nodded vigorously. "Yep. Pretend to be a cute Gryffindor girl or something; just get Potter to ask you on a date."

"And if I win the bet?"

"Oh the look on Potter's face when you show up will be a prize on its own," he sneered. "What do you want?"

"Don't know. I'll consider that later." Draco shrugged.

Blaise's face fell at the thought of being in debt to Draco and looked like he was going to back off, but Pansy shot him a warning look and decided for him, "fine."

"If I didn't want to see Potter's mortified face so bad…" he reluctantly held his hand out for Draco to shake.

Draco bit his lip. His last chance to satisfy his Potter Obsession. It would be fun -- at least more fun than the past dull days of their eighth year had been. He couldn't fool himself, any plan that involved Potter was very hard -- perhaps impossible -- to resist.

He shook Blaise's hand, ignored the joyful squeak Pansy let out, picked up the notebooks and left, impatient to start his project.

 

****

 

Harry nodded for the fourth time in the last ten minutes, pretending to be listening, and tried studiously to focus on the nap he was going to take when this would end. But still the second year curly haired boy babbled on without taking a breath. He was dying to politely tell him to fuck off and then shorten the distance between himself and his soft, comfy bed, but he'd promised Hermione he'd try to treat his "fans" better. Besides, the boy looked so sweet and innocent that Harry didn't think anyone had the heart to yell at him. At least that's what he thought before the boy mentioned a familiar name and pulled Harry's attention to his blabbering:

"…and that _Malfoy_ ; deserves a wet dementor's French kiss if you ask me --"

"I didn't ask you." Harry said promptly.

"-- am I the only -- what?" it seemed he hadn't quit caught what Harry said over the sound of himself talking. Good thing, because Harry hadn't meant to say that at all. He did think the curly boy was being cruel towards Malfoy -- the poor guy wouldn't even as much as talk aloud this year. Harry would sometimes stare at him not so subtly to get a word out of him, but he'd never even look up. Nevertheless, it wasn't his place to defend Malfoy and as far as he was concerned, Malfoy didn't deserve the trouble.

"I said I should head back now, uh…" Harry tried to remember his name in vein. "See you around." And he set off quickly.

_I won't stop till I reach my bed if my fucking life depends on it_ , he thought to himself. But as he turned the corner, he saw a black, shiny notebook on the ground. Someone must've dropped it there, and they wouldn't be getting it back from filch.

He sighed, bent down and picked it up.

Minutes later, Harry was at last united with his four-poster. He lazily pulled the notebook out of his bag and lied down, examining the cover and pages to find a clue and figure out who it belonged to.

It wasn't very thick (approximately fifty pages) had the words _Love Note_  written on its front cover in scarlet red, curvy letters, and all its pages were blank except for one single sentence at the top of the first page:

**'What would you do if every time you stepped into your dormitory you saw your two friends devouring each other's faces?'**

Well, that was weird. Maybe it was an idea for a book?

Deciding he'd ask Ron and Hermione later if they knew whose this was, he set the notebook on the bed beside himself and closed his eyes, letting himself revel in having the luxury of napping without worrying about having a war to fight.

 

He woke up in time for his next class and picked up the notebook again to take it with him and try to find its owner. When he opened it again to make sure there wasn't anything his sleep-addled mind had missed, however, he had to sit and stare at it for several seconds. Because right under the weird question, there was something else written that Harry was sure hadn't been there before:

**'Anyone there?'**

****

 

Draco had made sure to witness for himself that Potter took the notebook with him even though it was obvious he would, the too-curious-for-his-own-good git that he was. It was also obvious that it was only a matter of time before Potter would write back. And write back he did, two minutes after Draco's second message.

Such a dimwit. Hasn't he learned to keep away from suspicious stuff after seven years of weird crap happening?

 

_'what I did yesterday: yell at them then quietly walk out when they ignore me.'_

 

Gross, that would be Granger and Weasley. At least someone had it worse than him.

 

**'Very polite of you. I'd wrench them apart if they ignored me.'**

_'who is this?'_

**'It drains all the fun out of it if I tell you.'**

 

_'are you even a real person?'_

The moron replied again. Draco was lucky Potter was the dumbest Gryffindor.

 

**'Yes. Have you never heard about the Lovers' Notes? What kind of a wizard are you?'**

_'of course I've heard about them!'_

' _fine that's a lie. do explain.'_

**'What, you're gonna believe whatever I say?! Ask your friends, idiot.'**

 

Maybe he should've tried wooing Potter instead of doing the exact opposite, which was what he was doing now, but sometimes  (most of the times) Potter was so annoyingly infuriating.

 

_'geez fine.'_

 

Draco shook his head disappointedly and closed the notebook.

****

Harry was sitting in the common room with Ron and Hermione when he mentioned what he'd been thinking about all day.

"Why would I know anything about something that sounds so lame?" Ron asked, looking confused.

Harry pouted, "well i was told that all wizards know about them." which must've been a huge lie because if Pure Blood Ron Weasley had never heard the name then no one had --

"They're used for messaging your significant other," -- except, of course, for Hermione Granger, "why are you asking?"

"I found one in the hallway. I wanted to make sure there was an actual person behind the messages not, like, a horcrux or something."

Ron and Hermione stared at him, Ron grinning and Hermione worried. "Is our savior finally getting some?" Ron teased.

"Oh no is it another stalker fan?" said Hermione.

"I don't think so. They were quite rude, actually."

"Throw the notebook away then." Hermione shrugged, "you can't trust someone you haven't met anyway."

"Are you kidding, Hermione?! This is exactly what Harry needs!" They waited for Ron to continue, and he turned to Harry, "you always worry that people like you only for your reputation or that they lose interest when they get to know you, aren't you, Harry?"

"Um I never said the last part."

Ron ignored his comment, "well this is the perfect chance! Whoever's writing to you doesn't know who you are, so you can know if they _like you for you_ and all that shite, right?"

Harry blinked and stared at his two dramatic friends. After a moment he said, "I'm not gonna throw the thing away. And it's not the Perfect Chance, I'm just gonna keep talking to them 'cause the notebook is interesting and I'm bored." Although it would be nice if the anonymous person was a guy over seventeen (or girl, but preferably guy) but he was not going to focus on that because he wasn't like his dramatic friends; not completely.

****

A day had passed when Draco decided he'd given Potter enough time, and he was at class and nearly bored to death so he took out the notebook and checked and yep, there was Potter's ridiculous handwriting:

_'did my research. so you're real. which house are you in?'_

 

**'Why should I tell you that?'**

 

The reply came almost immediately and Draco tried to hide his grin behind his hand when the professor looked his way:

 

_'oh come on! it'll take the fun out of it if you don't tell me anything too.'_

 

Draco supposed he was right; dropping a bit of harmless information here and there would keep Potter interested without revealing too much.

And he didn't have to tell the truth, it occurred to him. That was his plan, wasn't it? To pretend to be a cute Gryffindor girl (although from the way he'd seen Potter eye some of the male students, maybe it didn't have to be a girl.)

His quill hovering above the paper, a stupid, treacherous idea slank into his head: what if he didn't lie? What if he remained as close as possible to his true self? Would Potter like Draco's character if Draco wasn't his ex-nemesis? Probably not. Draco would probably lose the bet. But the bet didn't hold that much importance to him; this small possibility did.

He cursed under his breath before writing down the word many would consider a huge turn-off:

 

**'Slytherin.'**


	2. Chapter 2

When Harry read the word, he felt a jolt in his heart; a pleasant one. He didn't even know why, only that reading that word brought the image of a certain blond Slytherin boy into his mind.

He dismissed the thought immediately. He couldn't think about Malfoy; they'd had a silent agreement at the start of the school year not to say a word to each other ever again. And though Harry often felt pulled toward him for some reason, he really didn't feel like fighting anymore.

What if this person was a friend of Malfoy's?

That was a stupid thought, because firstly, there wasn't a big chance that they were an eighth year student and secondly, Malfoy only had two friends who were dating each other too hard to have time to contact random people through notebooks Words forming on the page pulled him out of his reverie:

 

**'I see.'**

Harry began to write back but the person wasn't finished.

 

**'You can leave the notebook where you found it, arsehole.'**

 

' _sorry I was just thinki'_

**'of ways to tell me you'd rather not get yourself contaminated by talking to a Slytherin, I get it.'**

 

Wow so it wasn't just Malfoy; all the Slytherins were excessively touchy.

 

_'can you calm down please? I've got nothing against slytherins.'_

 

**'Sure you don't.'**

 

And they were all sarcastic bastards. Maybe he did have a thing or two against Slytherins.

 

_'I'm still writing to you aren't I?'_

**'Because you don't want your nice-to-everyone facade ruined.'**

 

_'you don't know who I am. why would I care about holding up a facade right now?'_

No reply. Harry closed the notebook and tried to refocus on the dull class.

****

Draco dropped his head on the notebook. Idiot. His own stupidity was even bigger than Potter's! Just because he wasn't going along with the plan he had at first, didn't mean he could say any shit he wanted to! He needed to be more cautious, and even if he wasn't tricking his way into Potter's heart, he could at least manage to keep from blowing his cover. Honestly, what was happening to his cunningness? Pansy and Blaise were right when they said his Slytherin was fading.

He had to clear his head before writing in that damn thing again.

He'd like to be able to talk to someone but he'd lose his head before he would admit his... _Whatever_ towards Potter to anyone.

So he just went into one of the balconies that night to breathe some fresh air and sober the fuck up.

However, his first intake of breath was painfully caught in his throat when Potter stepped in after him and he started coughing like a complete loser.

"Are you alright?" Potter asked like he cared and approached Draco to clap him on the back.

"Shut," cough, "up, Potter." He took a step back. Potter's smile would've been unnoticeable if Draco wasn't an expert in reading his expressions. But sadly he wasn't an expert in reading his mind so he didn't know what the reason for that reaction was. He guessed maybe Potter had missed annoying Draco just like Draco had missed shouting at him. Which was absurd but Draco had to ineptly hide a smile of his own.

"You come here often?" Potter asked and only realised what that sounded like when Draco arched an eyebrow. "Er, I mean... ugh forget it."

Draco decided to have mercy on him, "do _you_ come here often?" A little bit of mocking in his tone was nothing though, right?

Potter shrugged, placing his elbows on the banister and gazing out into the darkness, "Sometimes. It's a nice place if you want quiet and air."

"Oh is having an army of friends and admirers troubling you? Poor lad."

Potter rolled his eyes, but it was obviously just an act-- it _was_ troubling him.

Silence fell and Draco noticed that Potter was holding something in his hand: the Love Note.

Draco admitted to himself that this was a good idea: they were both gloomy, they both needed someone to talk to, and they both couldn't talk to their friends. Writing to a --seemingly-- stranger could solve that.

So he turned back to return to his room. "Where are you going?" Potter asked and then blinked a few times like he hadn't expected himself to say that.

"My room, Potter; or do you want to flirt with me a bit more?" A blush spread across Potter's face while it was Draco's turn to wonder why the hell he'd said that. It was usual for them to sneer at each other, but this was a little over the line. Or a lot, because this was _Potter_. One does not use the word 'flirt' to describe one's conversation with one's enemy, even jokingly.

Honestly, what was wrong with both of them? It was like they'd forgotten how to talk to each other.

Potter wasn't going to be able to make any comprehensible noises until the next hour apparently, so Draco walked off before any of them could make it worse.

**'You awake?'**

It took the answer a couple minutes to appear, as if Potter hadn't noticed the message yet; but when it did, its words were being written very quickly:

 

_'yeah i can't bring myself to even try to sleep. why are YOU awake?'_

 

**'Thinking**.'

 

_'I am too. I hope your thoughts are more pleasant than mine though.'_

**'Doubt it. What are you thinking about?'**

_'how people can't stop fucking talking to me about the war.'_

Draco didn't know how to respond to that. Luckily enough, Potter continued writing.

 

_'I get that they just want an excuse to talk to me and the war is what we all have in common. but sometimes they say things that_

_I don't know I just feel like they don't get it, they didn't experience it like I did so they have no right to talk to me about it.'_

 

**'I know that feeling quite well.'**

He did. Sometimes he wanted to punch the other students in the face for saying things like that part of the war was so cool, or it was scary but I kinda wanna have an experience like that again, ya know?

 

_'you do?'_

 

**'Yes. They either belittle it, considering it a cool adventure, or they try to get deep about it but they're actually talking out of their arses.'**

_' you put it into words! I get the urge to hex them a lot.'_

 

**'So which house are you in?'**

_'what's your guess?'_

**'Right now you sound Slytherin.'**

_'huh true. you could say I'm a slytherin, but officially I'm in gryffindor.'_

 

**'I haven't the foggiest what that means.'**

_'fun fact: the sorting hat told me I'd fit well in slytherin but I begged it not to put me there.'  
'wait please don't be offended! it's just that I'd been told that dark wizards were mostly slytherins, and I'd met a complete jerk  from the house.'_

 

Wow, now he was even more offended; that would probably be him. Okay, maybe he had been a complete jerk but whatever.

Also what the crap? Potter was about to be sorted into Slytherin?!

He wrote the next words without thinking:

 

**'We'd be in the same house.'**

_'no offense but I'm glad I wasn't put there. when I imagine having to attend all my classes with that jerk.'._

 

No offense but I think you're an asshole? Draco certainly wasn't having a good time. And really, what made him have the slightest hope that Potter would like him? Maybe he'd better stick to the initial plan or even better, call the whole thing off --

 

_'he's alright now but we used to be at each other's throat all the time.'_

Reading this was all it took for Draco to become a hopeful fool again. He hated himself for it but he couldn't help it.

 

**'How do you know he's alright?'**

_'I think he'd always just been a follower of other people but now he has no one to follow. or he sees the ones he used to follow for what they truly are.'_

 

Draco swallowed, staring at the paper without knowing what to say. How did Potter know this? True, it wasn't that hard to conclude but why would he spend the least amount of time pondering over _Draco_?

 

_'so are we still talking? like, is this going to be something regular?'_

**'If you want it to.'**

 

_'I do. do you?'_

**'Yes**.'

 

_'that's good. I'm going to turn in now. thanks for talking to me tonight.'_

 

**'My pleasure.'**

 

_'goodnight the only Slytherin I talk to without fighting.'_

Draco knew Potter would take it back if he knew this was Draco, but still he couldn't keep his chest from swelling with pride.

**'Goodnight, the first Gryffindor who doesn't hate my guts.'**

****

"What do I do?" Harry chuntered as a greeting as he sat at a desk beside Ron and Hermione, not caring if he'd interrupted them planning to make a baby or whatever it was that couples talked about.

Hermione turned to him impulsively, "what happened? What did you do?"

"Geez, nothing. That's why I'm asking, isn't it?"

"Don't mind her, mate," Ron put a hand on his shoulder, "she's forgotten that you're all sorts of boring now. Relax, 'mione, he probably just didn't have time to take a dump before class and he's worried about his stomach rumbling, or something as mundane."

"Actually I know a spell for that. Stay still, Harry." She demanded as she raised her wand.

"What? No! That's not my problem! Piss off, Ron." He kicked Ron in the shin under the desk to stop his hyena-like laughter.

"Oh it must be about your pen pal!" Hermione guessed aloud. "Tell us _everything._ "

"Dear Merlin." Ron sounded annoyed, but he made no further complaint.

"There's nothing to tell, really, and that's the thing; I don't know how to make them talk to me."

"Maybe by saying something?" Hermione raised an eyebrow. "You do know you have to do that to make a conversation, right?"

"No, your highness. I was brought up in a cupboard." Harry joked which made his friends shift in their seats uncomfortably. See? He had the conversation skills of a rotten cabbage.

"Anyways," he cleared his throat. "I wanna know so much about them, you know, and I don't know where to start. Like, what's their name? What's their sense of humor like? Where are they from? What do they want to do after graduation? Will we get along? Can we become friends? Am I getting ahead of myself here? Why do I even--"

Only when Hermione hissed out his name did he become aware of his blabbering. "Sorry." He mumbled, looking down as he felt his face getting hot with a blush.

"Honey, just," Hermione took her time to come up with a suggestion, "start with talking about your day, something simple. The rest will come."

Harry took a deep breath through his nose. That was true. The rest _would_ come. Nothing had happened yet, that was for sure, absolutely-bugger-all no-bloody-thing. But he had an obscure feeling that this was the start of good things happening.

That afternoon, Harry was miserably sprawled on his bed trying to come up with something to say that would announce him interesting but not desperate. He didn't know how many minutes he spent like this before words started shaping on the blank page, startling him as much as relieving his mind.

**'I miss the time I was constantly filled with the frightening anticipation of death. No room for boredom in that situation.'**

 

_'I'd kick anyone else's butt for saying that but you're entitled and right. I'm also having consecutive boring days.'_

 

**'Days these days.'**

 

_'indeed.'_

 

**'What do you think we should do now that we're not going to die'**

 

_'I don't know. what normal people would do perhaps.'_

 

**'What would that be?'**

 

_'erm try to bond with students from other houses?'_

 

**'I don't think that would be an enjoyable experience for a Slytherin in this time. You can go ahead and try by all means though.'**

 

_'yeah it wouldn't be much "enjoyable" for me either.'_

 

**'Plus, I am bonding with someone from another house.'**

 

_'ooh mutually using each other to drive off boredom? sounds like friendship to me.'_

 

**'Except we don't know anything about each other.'**

****

Draco kind of meant that as a way to conceal the fact that he very well knew who he was talking to. But they actually didn't know each other that well, did they? Well that was about to change.

 

'who's your favourite professor?'

 

**'That is the absolute shittiest question to start with. Or to bring up at all.'**

 

_'well I'm sorry but you're the one who insists on not revealing things and the only thing we know we have in common is this school. so either answer it or ask something better if you can.'_

 

**'Alright alright. None of them. They're all not so bad but I'm not fond of any of them.'**

 

_'mine's Lupin but I'm biased I guess.'_

_'was. was Lupin.'_

 

**'Sorry about him.'**

 

_'wasn't your fault.'_

 

It kinda was, though, wasn't it?

 

**'Next question?'**

 

_'you're not gonna think of something?'_

 

**'No I'm good. You're obviously the master here.'**

 

_'very funny. fine I'll carry the weight by myself. your best school year? or the one you hated the least.'_

 

**'First year, of course. So much false hope in my naïve head.'**

 

_'great point. but mine was the fourth.'_

 

**'Care to share the reason?'**

 

_'it was when I met my godfather for the first time. that's when I had my false hope. he's dead now.'_

 

**'Seems like we can't hold a conversation without it reeling toward the war. No problem with it on my part but does it make you feel uncomfortable?'**

 

_'no not at all. it's a real thing that happened we can't pretend it didn't. I don’t fancy talking about it with ignorant people. it's fine when it's with you.'_

 

**'You really know how to make me blush.'**

 

_'piss off.'_

 

**'Just charming.'**

**'Have you figured out what you want to do after school yet?'**

 

_'not really. I mean maybe. I don't  know.'_

 

**'Why the crisis?'**

 

_'I don’t wanna brag but I'm pretty good at dada (and I like it too) so everyone expects me to become an auror at this point. but I don't know if I want to. I think teaching appeals to me more. you're the first person I'm telling. forget it, what about you?'_

 

**'Hold up. Why?'**

 

_'why what?'_

 

**'Why haven't you told anyone? What's wrong with not wanting to be an auror?'**

 

_'well you know how it's a big deal and an honor to be one. and now that they're even accepting us without a test.. throwing away the opportunity is gonna make me seem irresponsible or whatever.'_

 

**'Bugger how it makes you seem. You can't be a good auror if you don't want to be one at all.'**

 

_'yeah I don't know yet. anyway. what about you? like being an auror.'_

 

**'Hell no. I'm into potions. I'd like to start my own chain. I have some moderately good ideas to start off with but we'll see.'**

 

_'keep up the good work. I just realised that I made it obvious I'm an_ _8_ _th year. it's only fair if you tell me too_ ^_^ _'_

 

**'First of all, scratch that monstrosity.'**

 

_'but that's me smiling_ -_- _'_

 

**'Don't interrupt me. Second of all, if you foolishly spell your life story out to me doesn't mean I have to do the same.'**

 

_'rude. But fine yeah that was a thoughtless move on my part. if I ask you not to try and deduce my identity will it stop you.'_

 

**'I have no intention of doing that.'**

 

_'good because this is nice. right?'_

 

**'Best interaction I've had this year.'**

 

_'are you mocking me or are you just having a shitty year?'_

 

**'Shitty year. But I honestly do enjoy writing to you.'**

 

_'_   ^_^  _'_

 

**'Is it too late for me to take that back?'**

 

_'yup! I should go. talk to you later potion boy or girl.'_

 

**'I look forward to it.'**


	3. Chapter 3

_'I am so goddamn horny.'_

The pumpkin juice Draco was drinking sputtered out of his mouth when he read the words that had just appeared on the page spread open before him.

Maybe he'd misread it; he was still sleepy and he hadn't finished eating his breakfast, so he read it again and yep, that's still what it said.

 

**'Do you think because we had a midnight conversation we've unlocked something and we can talk about anything now?!'**

 

_'well yeah it felt like it.'_

_'it's not like i can talk to anyone else about this. you don't know me so it's alright.'_

 

Was this Merlin punishing him? It was certainly someone punishing him.

 

**'Fine, tell me more.'**

And now he was punishing himself. Stupid Potter and the stupid affect he has on Draco!

 

_'why do the guys at the slytherin table look so good?'_

 

What the fuck? His eyes were definitely playing a trick on him this time. He read it four times until he was convinced and sure that Potter wasn't going to correct himself.

 

**'Do they?'**

 

_'the girls too of course, but dear Godric the dudes!'_

Draco needed time to breath. Potter was officially Not Straight -- he'd already guessed that much, but it was official now.

He felt a blush blossoming on his face. Potter couldn't possibly think _he_ looked anything near good, though he was most certainly feeling eyes on him. He looked up for one second, because one second couldn't hurt; but apparently it could, because what he saw stayed etched inside his eyelids for a week: Potter staring at him determinedly, biting his lip.

They both looked at each other wide eyed for a split second and then looked down.

Draco gulped.

 

**'You're into boys then?'**

_'girls AND boys. But i've just discovered the boys part so I'm more inclined that way since it's new and stuff.'_

_'I'm a guy by the way if it isn't clear enough. you?'_

 

**'Me too.'**

 

_'you're a guy too or do you like both girls and boys too or both?'_

Apparently it would kill Potter to talk more clearly or to use one or two punctuations; honestly, did they teach kids nothing at those muggle schools?

 

**'I'm also a guy, but I'm only into guys.'**

 

_'oh have you told anyone?'_

**'No.'**

 

_'how come? I thought it was accepted in the wizarding world.'_

 

**'It is. I haven't told anyone because it's no one's business, and i don't need to since it's pretty obvious.'**

_'so how many years have you been among those slytherin boys without hooking up with any of them?'_

**'I refuse to answer that. But nice try.'**

_'aw it was worth a shot.'_

 

**'As much as I'm enjoying our little talk, I have to get to class now. Talk to you later, horny muggle-born.'**

 

_'fine good deduction i get it I'm clueless about the shiny world of you great sorcerers blah blah'_

_'and I'll submit myself to a day of overly tight pants, my obviously-gay friend.'_

 

Draco closed the notebook with a hardly-managed emotionless expression, while grinning inwardly at Potter calling him friend.

 

****

 

Draco had an incredibly tedious day, and it certainly had nothing to do with him missing writing to Potter, because that would be just ludicrous; he'd talked to him that morning for Salazar's sake, the fact that Potter didn't know who he was aside.

He wouldn't write to him at all that night, he promised himself, better make him wait and also to give himself time to take his hopes down a notch.

"Doing alright, Draco?" Blaise asked with an arched brow as Draco entered their room.

"Sure." He tried to stand up straighter.

"Really? Because you're not wearing your I-am-performing-an-evil-plan face, which you should; unless you're quitting the bet?" His arched brow went unbelievably higher.

"I'm not."

"Oh no," Blaise mumbled and paused, Draco waited for him to go on, "you have it on for scarhead, don't you?!"

"I don't know what you mean." Draco sat on his own bed and tried not to look Blaise in the eyes, totally aware that he had just given the worst possible answer. It would've been really easier if he still hung out with Goyle; he'd never question him.

"Oh my God, you do! Damn I owe Pansy now."

"Seriously?"

"Yes we place bets on our poor friend's hopeless unreciprocated feelings. It's a slytherin thing, you wouldn't get it."

Draco sighed.

There were a few moments of awkward silence before Blaise huffed, "I have no idea what Pansy would say in this situation obviously, so… what do you wanna do about it?"

"It?"

"Your sappy crush on Potter, duh."

"Why do I have to do something about it?"

"So you're just gonna try to forget it?"

"No?"

"What then?"

"Nothing?"

"Nothing?!" Blaise exasperated as if he didn't get it at all.

"Well not _nothing_ ; I'm going to suffer a lot, there's that." He shrugged nonchalantly but suddenly he felt like an icy bludger had went through his chest and pushed his heart out the other way because the reminder hit him: there was absolutely Zero chance that Potter would like him. Like him back. Dammit when did he let himself get so carried awa--

"Hey what are you guys talking about?" Pansy asked as she walked in, and Blaise looked so grateful because as he admitted, he had no clue what to say.

Draco turned to Pansy and said so pathetically, "the fact that there's no way Potter will ever like me."

Pansy sensed his misery, using her Girl Superpower, and grabbed him by the shoulders. "Honey, that's not true! You know he's always looking at you."

"He-- what?"

"You really don't know?!"

"I've caught him a few times..."

"Oh believe me, there's been a lot more than a few times." Said Blaise with a smirk.

"Probably thinking about how much he hates me." Draco shrugged again, apparently that's what he did when his heart was being ripped out.

"So much he could tear your robes and bend you over the Slytherin table."

"I hate to say this, but Blaise is right."

Draco didn't know what to say to this; he was just confused. Surely that couldn't be true. Or could it. But even so--

"Ok so he thinks I'm fuckable, big deal. We all know I'm not awful to look at." He said, lofty and upset at the same time.

Pansy shook him a bit so he would look in her eyes, and asked, "You know how you get all grossed out when you see me and Blaise being lovey-dovey?" Draco nodded skeptically. "That's how _we_ feel when we see the way Potter looks at you."

Somehow, that was reliable enough to make him stop panicking. He actually felt much better. Maybe it wasn't so absurd do something other than suffer.

Pansy punched him softly. "There ya go, big lad." She smiled reassuringly and Draco became aware of his own smile.

Blaise groaned, "shame, it would be really funny if you didn't return Potter's feelings and could fuck him over."

Draco slept soundly that night, a nice dream replacing his nightmares after a long time. Even if he was taking his hopes too high, at least it felt better than being paranoid. Even if his high hopes were about to crumble down sooner than he expected them to.

 

****

 

Harry woke up screaming the next morning, Ron already standing at his side. He sat up and blinked rapidly for a few seconds, brushing aside the fuzziness in his brain.

"Alright there, mate?"

"Yeah."

"Nightmares returning?"

Was it a nightmare? It must've been, considering he felt unreasonably terrified. But he was pretty sure that before it turning into a nightmare, he'd been having a wet dream. About Malfoy.

He tried not to show how furious he was with himself when he replied, "yeah."

"You said Draco's name, though."

Harry frowned. "Since when do you call him Draco?!"

Ron looked at him awkwardly, "you did."

"Oh."

"Do you want to… go for a walk or something?"

Harry grunted incoherently. And so they did.

Ron swallowed as they exited the school building. "Look, mate... I know you don't like talking about this, and I know you said you're over it but, are you sure you're not still thinking about him?"

"Give me a break man; I've just had a nightmare."

Ron ignored his plea, "'mione and I've been talking about it. She said she's got to talk to you, thinks I can't do it! I'm very professional at man-to-man talk thank you very much." He sort of pouted and Harry made a note to make fun of him later. "Anyway, it's not about me. Talk." He demanded.

"I... It's not like I'm looking for him on the map anymore or anything." Said Harry defensively.

"Instead you tend to stare at him like he's the mirror of erised or something. And i know your dream wasn't entirely a nightmare." They avoided each other's eyes.

"Fine, i admit it. I can't get over him, but at least he's a more decent person now. I'd even go as far as saying he might not entirely hate me." This was pathetic; he couldn't hold his little smile back nevertheless.

"First of all, he never hated you; you're just overdramatic,"

Harry beamed, "you think so?"

Ron looked at him blankly. "I'm not finished. Second of all, you don't know that he's decent. He's more reserved, and he doesn't shout POTTER whenever you walk in the room, but he could be a bigger bigot than before for all we know."

Harry sighed. "You're right." he said disappointedly, but genuinely convinced.

Pansy and Blaise, all doey-eyed and holding hands, chose that moment to walk out of the castle, followed, of course, by none other than Draco Malfoy. Harry blinked; Malfoy was smiling, and not an I-pushed-a-younger-student-into-a-puddle smile, but rather an honest I-am-capable-of-having-pure-emotions one. Actually Malfoy had looked remarkably happier that week, but Harry wasn't really used to the view yet.

He turned back to Ron, "hey, what do you think Malfoy's all giddy about?"

"I literally _just_ told you not to do this, Harry!" Ron said incredulously. Harry blushed, and made a point of not looking over at Malfoy and the love birds the rest of the time they were out. Or for as long as he could.

Ron took mercy on him and changed the subject, grinning, "You've got someone else to obsess over now, anyway, haven't you?"

Harry smiled, because he did.


	4. Chapter 4

 "You guys make me want to fist my throat and throw up all over my shoes." Draco huffed irritatedly as he had been for the past half an hour he'd spent with the two lovesnakes.

"It's not our fault your shoes are so hideous you wanna destroy them." Blaise smirked.

Pansy eyed Draco's face for a while before she pointed out, "you're making that weird face again. I take it things are going well with your saviour guy?"

Draco averted his eyes and kept looking at the ground as they walked. "It's called a smile, Panse."

"It's weird when it's your face doing it." She shrugged. "And that doesn't answer my question."

"Maybe I didn't intend for it to, since it's none of your business." He tried to make it sound menacing which was a hard task as he was keeping his grin from growing at the same time. Even the thought of Potter was making him weak and the messed up thing was, he was totally alright with it.

So he allowed himself to look at Potter -- who was out with one of his dorky friends, naturally --  once, but that 'once' turned out to last for too long since he couldn't take his damn eyes off him. Potter right now looked, one might say, ridiculously gorgeous; because honestly it was ridiculous how this guy managed to look so nice with completely disheveled hair and skewed glasses, eyes squinted against the wind.

Draco couldn't help but keep staring like a drooling maniac even when Potter looked over and locked eyes with him. He didn't expect a smile or a nod, he knew they weren't friends outside the pages of their notebooks, and he most certainly knew that to Potter, he was still the revolting Malfoy who wasn't even a proper villain; but with all this, it still hurt when Potter slightly frowned at him and broke eye contact. Though he didn't want to be dramatic, Draco thought this must be how it would feel if a snake bit you in the heart.

"Someone's not enjoying the nice weather." Pansy commented, having followed Draco's gaze.

"When you said he looks at me, I didn't know this was what you meant." Some of the disappointment he was saturated with seeped into his supposed-to-be sarcasm, which of course made Blaise punch his shoulder.

"Don't start that shit again!" Blaise said between gritted teeth, "I bet this has to do with his prat of a friend. Is there a spell to make weasels mind their own fucking business or do I have to use the muggle way and just kick him to death?"

"I can't figure out whether you love Draco so much or just really hate Weasley."Pansy wondered.

Blaise shot Draco a hard glare to make sure he wouldn't think for a second that it was the first one, then he turned back to Pansy and said, "you know what? He should stick to the plan we had in the first place, and stop this My Whole Being Depends on Potter's Attention nonsense once and for all."

"You know it's not that simple! And also it's…"

Draco, very much done listening at that point, sighed and let his friends argue over what's best for him like he wasn't there. Maybe if he pretended it deeply enough he could actually stop being there.

****

_'you there?'_

The note stared at Draco for hours from the afternoon he saw it. _I'm not even considering replying_ , he told himself, which of course made him consider it.

Nothing had changed from the first time they started this, he knew from the start that Potter would dance on his grave, so what did he have to lose? He could even keep from revealing his identity forever, and just let them continue having small conversations that brightened their day. Yes, this was probably the best option. A little bit of Potter was surely better than nothing, even if it frustrated him to madness, right? But wasn't it too risky? If Potter wanted to know him one day, for how long could he refuse? He'd just have to end things entirely, he guessed. _Heartbreak, here I come._

 

**'I am now.'**

_'hi! How've you been doing?'_

**'fine.'**

_'that's it? We haven't talked in a few days. did I scare you off or something?'_

**'No, not at all. My life is just not that eventful right now, I guess.'**

_'I know right? Maybe other students aren't that wrong. I mean aside from people dying, other parts of the war were kinda cool weren't they?'_

**'Not for me. No part of it was cool in the slightest.'**

_'come on! There must've been something you enjoyed. Remember Fred and George's glamorous exit?'_

**'I was too busy worrying about not getting kicked out of my family; some of us couldn't just state that they wanted to change their life without being scared as shite, you know?'**

_'Merlin, you get offended easily don't you.'_

And Draco realised he was attacking Potter for no reason. So maybe he was still upset. Or more likely yet, maybe they just weren't meant to get along. The whole idea of being genuine was to see if they could make it work despite of all the deep-rooted bigotry, and maybe this was it; that the problem wasn't just the Malfoy part, but also the Draco part in equal measures.

_'but I guess it was inconsiderate of me. I'm sorry.'_

Did Potter just apologize to him? This moment should be written in the wizarding history and the muggle one, statue of secrecy be damned. Draco reveled in this sweet unprecedented taste for a while before allowing misery to wash over him again. Potter showed decency this time, but how long soon would Draco mess up again?

_'will you still talk to me please?'_

To hell with it. To hell with the agonizing stinging in his chest when he thought about their inevitable sad ending. Who was he to turn down Harry Potter's asking?

**'What have you been up to?'**

_'boring school work. the only interesting research I'm doing is finding out who you are but no progress on that one.'_

**'Why are you so keen on knowing my identity?'**

_'I've always had a high curiosity but this time it actually matters.'_

**'Why do you think that?'**

_'well you just seem like a cool person and I think we'd get along.'_

**'That's exactly because you haven't met me. Everyone's a lot crappier in person.'**

_'not true. the ones you like are more wonderful in person.'_

**'You just called me wonderful.'**

_'I did not!'_

**'You did so; you used the term "more" indicating that I am wonderful to some extent.**

_'I also used the phrase "the ones you like", smartass. Who said I like you?'_

**'Fair point.'**

_':P'_

**'Very mature. Please refrain from drawing here again. This is a notebook.'**

_'you're no fun. Any surface can be a good place to draw. social norms don't control us.'_

**'I can't remember the last time I drew something,not even as a kid. My father said it's a waste of time in addition to being feminine.'**

_'you're father told that to a kid?'_

**'I was** **6** **, not a kid anymore in his opinion.'**

_'wow. and you never rebelled?'_

**'I didn't want to. Believe it or not I had no problem with being a copy of him.**

_'you must've been an odd child.'_

**'I never was a child.'**

_'it's good that you were alright with that though. I wasn't allowed to have fun either but I always found a way. The punishments didn't bother me since they'd come whether I behaved or not.'_

Was Draco still talking to Potter? He didn't know anything about Potter's childhood. He'd heard some rumours but dismissed them as what they were -- rumours; because saint Potter had to have been raised in a functioning family, right? He had to have it easier than Draco because that was the fundamental reason he hated him: that he just naturally possessed whatever was needed while Draco struggled to do good in school and make his father proud. It just never occurred to him that Potter might have issues, which of course was stupid to assume. Everyone had one kind of trauma or another, even the saviour of all wizards. And this, for some reason, made Draco long for him more.

 

**'See it's good that we don't know each other in real life. We wouldn't share our pathetic life stories otherwise.'**

 

_'hah okay you're right but we still got to meet one day.'_

 

**'As someone who was worried about scaring me off you sure aren't making an effort not to.'**

 

_'if my tragic backstory doesn't make you be like "sorry I just accidentally lost both my arms and can't ever write to you again" nothing will.'_

 

**'You really want to test me?'**

 

_'I couldn't get you out of my head these past few days you weren't around. (yes I'm testing you by being genuine if creepy. Suck on that!)'_

 

**'Then I must admit you were in my head too, quite often.'**

 

_'so we agree that we should talk more.'_

 

**'Don't say that. People tend to magically disappear after saying that.'**

 

_'I didn't say anything.'_

 

**'Good.'**

 

_'but we agree that this is a cool notebook and we should keep using it.'_

 

**'We do.'**

****

"Harry, can I see your notes?" Hermione leaned toward him to take a look at what he'd got down so far. "Wow, and here I was thinking you were taking the class seriously for once."

"Huh?" Harry said as he closed the notebook defensively, sighing in relief when he saw it was only Hermione.

"Nothing. Ugh." It seemed like she was about to say something else but she couldn't afford to miss more of the class so she sat straight again and didn't talk to him until after class.

When she was walking out the class with Harry and Ron was when she eyed Harry skeptically and asked, "Can I see your Love Note?"

"Certainly not if you call it that!" Harry grimaced.

"Don’t fight it, mate. Just let luv in. How else are you gonna shag this friend of yours by the end of the school year."

"Show me a page of your notebook or let Ron go on."

Harry handed it to her sulkily and watched her skip through some pages before giving it back.

"You still don't know who this person is, right?" she raised an eyebrow.

"That's right."

"You know you can tell us anything don't you? Personally I don't think there's anything particularly wrong with this."

"What on earth are you talking about?" Ron asked curiously and shot Harry a am-I-the-only-one-who's-missing-the-point look.

"I haven't got the foggiest either." Harry shrugged.

"The messages from your friend," Hermione turned to Harry with a grave expression, "they're in Malfoy's handwriting."

Harry captured his breath in his lungs, then when Ron burst out laughing, he joined in too. "that was a good one. I'm not kidding." Ron put a hand on Hermione's shoulder proudly. "I've taught you well, honey. Got me there for a sec. And Godric, Harry's face!"

"Can't believe I fell for that." Said Harry. "wait, why do you look like you were being serious?"

"I _was_ , idiots. You can't tell me you haven't noticed the resemblance, Harry."

"It's not like I know what Draco's handwriting's like." Harry murmured before giving up, "fine, so it's similar. I'm sure lot's of pureblood kids students have that stuck up gaudy handwriting. Doesn't prove anything."

"But--"

Ron interrupted their conversation, "Are you guys actually arguing about whether Malfoy is messaging Harry anything other than death threats? That shouldn't be an argument at all. Harry, does your penpall sound like a dick?"

"No. Not to me at least."

"Does it seem like he's trying to lure you into something or get close to you and kidnap you?"

"He doesn't even want to meet."

"There you have it then. Now let's go to the Great Hall, I'm starving."

Hermione didn't appear entirely convinced but the other two were pretty sure and pretty hungry so she dropped it and followed them down the stairs.


End file.
